The Devil You Know
by gf7
Summary: Sequel to Survivor and The View In Here. The Joker is back in prison but Helena's problems continue. Now he's even got her questioning reality.


Title: The Devil You Know  
  
Author: Shawn Carter  
  
Email: gfshawn@earthlink.net Feedback is always appreciated.  
  
Disclaimer: T/R created these characters. DC is pretty involved as well.  
  
Rating: PG-13. Violence. Language. Adult situations.  
  
Summary: The Joker is back in custody but Helena's medical problems still persist. In fact, they appear to be worsening as she begins to lose her grip on reality.  
  
Notes: This is the third part of what was originally envisioned to be a trilogy. That said, it's gonna be a bit longer. There will be at least one more long story. There are four other shorts- a prelude, two interludes and an as yet to be written epilogue. I hope you enjoy and continue to do so. Feedback is always appreciated.  
  
Previous Stories: Survivor. Everybody Hurts. The View From In Here. Easy To Be Hard.- I would advise reading them in order.  
  
Music: The lyrics are from two sources. The first is from Dashboard Prophets and the song is titled Ballad for Dead Friends. The second is from Five for Fighting and is called Superman (It's Not Easy). The title is from a song by Face to Face.  
  
*****  
  
"There's no vacancies in paradise"  
  
"It may sound absurd But don't be naïve Even heroes have the right to bleed I may be disturbed But won't you concede Even heroes have the right to dream"  
  
*****  
  
It was passionate and it was sweet. It felt like fire was exploding through her veins. She moaned and thrashed, her body caught in a wave of ecstasy far greater than anything she had ever imagined possible. She could feel his fingers brushing against the flesh of her back, crushing her to him. One of his large hands tangled into her short brown hair. He whispered her name and in turn she offered up his.  
  
And then just like that, it was over.  
  
Even a simple romantic fantasy of passionate lovemaking was torn to ribbons by the madman as he looked down at her and laughed with glee. The bed she was in vanished and was replaced by the cold cement of a floor. The man she was lying next to disappeared and instead she saw walls that seemed to be moving in on her.  
  
"Reese," she almost whimpered, angry at her own weakness but unable to break the hold that the fear had on her.  
  
"He's not here anymore," the Joker cackled, dancing closer to him. She had seen this same move so many times now that she practically knew his dance steps by heart. They weren't so special really; a tap here, a tip there. Nothing to write books about but damn if they didn't chill her to the bone.  
  
"He left you too." the Joker added, eyes dancing with joy.  
  
"Just a dream," she reminded herself, trying to force herself to wake up. She closed her eyes tightly and began to repeat the words over and over. "Just a dream."  
  
She could still hear him above her. She could practically feel him. The air felt so raw and soiled. Like it was damaged just by his presence. She questioned how that was possible since it really was all just her fertile imagination giving life to her nightmares.  
  
"They'll never know you were real," he said suddenly, his voice almost sad. "You'll just fade away. They'll never you were real."  
  
She cocked her head, not understanding. She opened her mouth, almost more curious than frightened. She needed to know.  
  
But the lights came on.  
  
Which of course was new.  
  
There was a sharp blinding pain in her skull and then a flood of whiteness that seemed to overtake everything. She let out a soft cry and then fell back, feeling nothing beneath her.  
  
"Helena?"  
  
She turned slightly and reached out. She knew the voice. "Dinah?"  
  
The pain in her head began to fade and the light dimmed until she could finally make out the concerned face of her friend and colleague Dinah Redmond.  
  
"Just a dream," she said softly, more to herself than to Dinah. Then she blinked and looked into the girls' blue eyes. "Did I wake you?"  
  
"No," Dinah said, shaking her head. "I was just getting in from Gaby's. I came by to check on you. Is Barbara still out? Are you okay?"  
  
"So many questions," Helena Kyle said with a slight smile. It wasn't very convincing but it'd do. As long as she made sure to evade Dinah's touch, she could keep her nightmares to herself. They wouldn't worry then; they wouldn't know that he was still in her head. "Yes, Barbara is still at the parent-teacher conferences and yes, I'm fine."  
  
"Are you sure?" Dinah asked, clearly not convinced. She extended a hand slightly but quickly retracted it when she saw Helena flinch slightly. It made her even more curious but she decided to dwell on that later. "You look kind of."  
  
"Hungry?" Helena replied. "And I am. I could use some soup."  
  
"Soup?"  
  
"Soup. Indeed. Chicken Noodle if we have it," Helena responded. She placed a hand on the edge of the bed and lifted her body up. It had been almost two weeks since the Joker had been put back in jail and her body had healed quite a bit. She still couldn't run and her legs weren't exactly eager to support her weight but they could. She had found that up to ten minutes of movement at a time was at least somewhat acceptable.  
  
The unfortunate part however was that those ten minutes were always followed by about an hours worth of icing and massaging in order to convince her body that it was fine and it damn well needed to shut the hell up and stop being so lazy.  
  
That said, she was healing. She was moving. She was going to be okay. Which meant that it was time to turn to the second part of the healing process; chicken soup.  
  
"Need help?" Dinah asked, moving around to lend a hand. Once again Helena evaded her, managing to just jerk away from the contact.  
  
"I'm fine," she insisted, finally settling on her feet. She moved gingerly but just the same. "I need to get walking again anyways. I'm getting restless; I need to get back out there and kick some ass."  
  
"Oh it's fun," Dinah assured her.  
  
Helena shot her a look. "Don't get too used to it. That's my hunting ground. You're just filling in."  
  
"We'll see," Dinah teased. She flipped the light on in the kitchen and crossed over to the cupboard. She heard a heavy thud behind her and deduced correctly that Helena had dropped herself into one of the chairs. "Chunky?"  
  
"Yep," Helena replied, yawning. She had slept a lot lately but none of it had been restful. Almost every single night had been spent in the grip of one nightmare or another. And the hell of it was, they all started well.  
  
Some were simple and easy dreams that made no sense. Others were about her mother. And whoa back baby but some were also erotic as all hell. And usually involving a stubborn detective from the GCPD.  
  
Best not to go there. Admitting feelings could only lead to madness. And frustration. She knew that Reese was likely just as in to her but their worlds were so different and crazy that the chances of actually making it work and not getting destroyed in the process.wow.not good.  
  
"They'll never know you existed."  
  
She blinked and looked up, realizing that she had allowed her head to drop. "Did you say something?" she asked, staring right at Dinah.  
  
The blonde shook her head. "No. You okay?"  
  
"Yeah. Um.yeah.just tired."  
  
"You sure you want to eat?"  
  
"Of course I am," Helena insisted. "I've been sleeping all day. I'm just groggy is all. Nothing more."  
  
"Whatever you say," Dinah replied with a laugh as she took the can over to the electric opener. It buzzed to life and began to saw into the metal. Helena flinched a bit at the sound and just barely managed to swallow back the bile that had suddenly risen up in her throat.  
  
She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and was somewhat shocked to feel a wave of dizziness rush her body. She gripped the side of the table, praying for strength.  
  
"They'll never know you existed."  
  
She looked up frantically but all she saw was Dinah's back.  
  
And then she collapsed.  
  
*****  
  
"She just passed out?" Barbara Gordon pushed, agitation in her voice. She continued to stare at the blinking monitors which were pulsing different colours. One in particular was glowing bright green and dancing in rhythm with Helena's heartbeat which seemed elevated but otherwise alright.  
  
"One moment she was sitting at the table telling me not to get too comfy on patrol and the next she was on the floor. I couldn't get her to come around. I'm sorry if I."  
  
"No. No, you did the right thing," Barbara assured her. "Maybe she just got light-headed."  
  
"Is that possible?" Dinah asked, hoping for such a simple answer. It hadn't been easy to get Barbara out of her conferences so she rather hoped that it had been for a good reason. Even if only to say that it wasn't a big deal.  
  
For over four weeks they had been dealing with the violent aftermath of the Joker's savage attack on Helena Kyle. He had broken her body and then worked feverishly on destroying her soul. Now her muscles and ligaments were mending but her mind seemed just as tormented.  
  
Physically, she was getting better with every day; her bones were knitting and she was showing significant progress. Barbara even thought she might be able to try a light jog within four to five days. Mentally however, the problems continued.  
  
The CAT scans had come up with little evidence of brain damage but other tests provided a much more clouded look at the situation. She was still passing out whenever she had an extreme emotional reaction and she seemed utterly unable to sleep through even an hour without having a violent nightmare.  
  
Barbara insisted that part of that was normal; post-traumatic stress disorder and all that. Maybe a visit to the shrink would help. Of course that would only work if Helena could get there and actually cared to talk about the demons in her head. Dr. Quinzell was apparently good but she was no mind-reader.  
  
The nightmares however weren't just going to go away on their own. They were the products of helplessness. At least that's what Barbara believed. Dinah wasn't so sure. It wasn't like she had anything to base her doubt on but it all seemed so strange to watch such a strong woman being victimized repeatedly by a dream. Something that wasn't even real.  
  
"Helena?" Barbara said softly, leaning over her young protégé. Dinah watched as Oracle injected a long needle into the brunette's arm. The girl moaned a bit and then hissed in pain. When she had hit the ground, she had smacked her shoulder against the floor and wrenched it to the side a bit. Like she needed anymore pain.  
  
"Fuck," she gasped out. Her hand went immediately to her shoulder and began to massage it. The other hand slapped the needle away. "Do you have to keep stabbing me with that thing?"  
  
"Do you have to keep passing out?" Barbara shot back, a tad bit of amusement in her voice. And of course concern but she was managing to mask it well. "And I didn't stab you; I poked you."  
  
"Same difference," Helena retorted, sitting up on the metal bed. She cracked her back and groaned. "I'm getting a bit too used to this thing. What happened this time?"  
  
"I was making dinner and you passed out?" Dinah replied, almost questioning her own version of the events. They didn't quite seem right.  
  
"I got dizzy," Helena replied, waving her hand as if to pass it off. "I guess I just got up too quickly. No big."  
  
"It's a big," Barbara said, shaking her head. "I'm worried. These spells keep hitting you."  
  
"You're overreacting. As usual."  
  
"Okay, fine. I'm overreacting. Then tell me why you've spent most of the last two weeks either sleeping or drugged?"  
  
Helena shrugged. "You enjoy stabbing me with that thing?"  
  
"Poking," Barbara corrected her. "And that's neither here nor there."  
  
"Okay, so what is? I'm fine, Barbara. I've just not been sleeping very well. You said that was to be expected."  
  
"And it is," Barbara sighed. "I'm just worried."  
  
"And that's your job and I appreciate it. I do. But I promise you, I'm fine."  
  
"Okay. Fine," Barbara said, giving in. She knew when she had lost. She didn't believe her young charge for even a minute but she could tell that she wasn't about to win any battles by arguing with her. Helena enjoyed arguing and she could wear anyone down. "I just want you to rest."  
  
"I've been resting, Barbara. I can't rest anymore or technically I'll be dead."  
  
"Don't talk like that," Dinah admonished. "It's not funny."  
  
"Sorry," Helena said, a bit ashamed. She sighed. "Okay, look, I am tired. I'm going to return to my room and try to sleep."  
  
"Let me help you," Dinah offered. She tried to ignore Helena's abrupt change of mind in regards to getting rest.  
  
"No!" Helena replied, a bit too quickly. She caught herself and saw the wounded look on Dinah's face. "I mean.I do need to get my legs moving again. I'm okay. The trip to my room will probably help knock me out."  
  
"Sure. Okay," Dinah said, not convinced and still a bit stung. Logically she knew that it wasn't about her. Well not exactly anyways. Helena was avoiding her touch; trying to keep the touch telepath out of her mind. The only question was why. Just the same, it still hurt more than she'd care to admit.  
  
"Goodnight," Helena said. She pushed herself up and wobbled a bit but quickly held out a hand to stop the other two women from assisting her. She moved gingerly towards the door and slipped out.  
  
"Something's wrong," Dinah said, turning towards Barbara. "She doesn't want me in her head."  
  
"Noticed that too, did you?" Barbara drawled. She lifted an eyebrow. "Wonder why?"  
  
Dinah scrunched her face. "I was hoping you could answer that."  
  
Barbara snorted and laughed. "I've been trying to figure out that girl for too many years now. I don't think I ever will." She shrugged. "But we will get to the bottom of this. I do promise you that."  
  
*****  
  
She had watched him die the night before in her dream. He had been gutted; torn to pieces really. His killer hadn't been human but he hadn't exactly been a Meta either. He was almost mutated and certainly angry as all hell. Or maybe scared. They were fairly similar emotions in her experience. He had killed with a wild abandon, slaughtering the young man in a maddening frenzy. The kid hadn't stood a chance.  
  
And she had seen it all like she had been watching from her couch. Almost as if his murder had been displayed in high definition on a big screen plasma TV. Clear as day.  
  
So she wasn't at all surprised to see the file up on Barbara's flat screen when she limped into the control room at just after eleven in the morning. She quickly found a chair and turned it around so that she could read the police report.  
  
His name had been Andrew Tyson. Twenty-one years of age and in his third year of college at NYU. Home for the holidays. He'd been out with a girl at a bar. Trying to get some romance. He had poured out his life story to her and even managed to get a number and a date for the next evening. Little had he known that there wouldn't be such a thing for him. Poor bastard.  
  
"Helena?" Barbara asked, wheeling into the room. She was holding a mug of steaming coffee. The smell drifted across and filled Helena's nostrils. French Vanilla. Involuntarily, Helena smiled. Barbara was, if nothing more, rigidly consistent.  
  
"Good morning," Helena said, eyes still on the computer screen. She read the report again and then reread it once more. Just to make sure she hadn't missed anything. Like she actually could. Once you saw it happen live it tended to stick with you.  
  
"You okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," Helena replied, almost singing the words. "I am so sick of that question."  
  
"You think I'm not sick of asking it?" Barbara replied with a chuckle. She moved next to Helena's chair and pointed towards the screen. "He was killed last night."  
  
"I see that," Helena said, eyes not moving. "Looks pretty grisly."  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"Guess you need me out there."  
  
"Well that's not going to happen and frankly I hope we have him caught before you are able to get back out there."  
  
"Why's that?" Helena demanded, sounding insulted.  
  
Barbara placed a hand on her protégé's arm. "Because it means he'll be stopped sooner rather than later."  
  
"Oh," Helena said. "I knew that. Just a little juiced is all." She held up her hand. "Don't ask, I'm fine."  
  
Barbara laughed. "Sure, sure."  
  
"Dinah already at school?"  
  
"Uh huh. I'm on lunch. I have to get back. Did you just wake up?"  
  
"Uh huh," Helena replied, taking the cup of coffee from Barbara and sipping from it.  
  
"Nice to know some things never change," Barbara cracked. "So everything is okay around here?"  
  
"Again, yes. Go. I'm fine. I'm just reading up on Mr. Tyson."  
  
"Tyson?" Barbara asked, a bit alarmed. "We don't have an ID on this guy yet."  
  
Helena looked momentarily surprised. Then she coughed. "Um.I don't know where I got that name from. I guess I just decided to name him."  
  
"Okay," Barbara replied, not quite believing her. "Look I have to."  
  
"Get back. Go. I am fine. I am still fine. Trust me for once."  
  
"I do. Okay, if anything else important comes in."  
  
"I'll send up the bat-signal."  
  
"Not funny," Barbara admonished.  
  
Helena wrinkled her nose. "A little funny."  
  
Barbara sighed. "Okay a little. Alright, I'm going."  
  
"Bye," Helena sang out, already turned back towards the screen. Barbara watched her for a long moment and then finally left, her eyes full of concern.  
  
Because somehow or another, she was now certain that the body in the morgue belonged to someone named Tyson.  
  
And there wasn't a way in hell that Helena could have known that.  
  
*****  
  
He tossed the baseball up and down, watching as it flew into the air and then descended quickly. If he listened real carefully he could hear it cut forcefully through the air of his stuffy apartment.  
  
And damn was it ever. Even opening the windows hadn't helped. All that had done was make the room cold. New Gotham was in the midst of an extreme cold front. It had already blown in almost two feet of white powder and several inches of rain. The docks were stacked high with sandbags to prevent flooding.  
  
But he wasn't even allowed down there to help with flood control.  
  
Being on medical leave was simply no fun.  
  
Detective Jesse Reese moved to his feet and began to pace. He had expected to actually enjoy spending a few days alone and in the quiet of his own space. That had been three days ago. Now he just wanted to get back to work.  
  
Now he wanted to know who had offed that kid in the middle of an alley. And not with love. He wanted to be part of the case but the Chief had quickly said no way. He had to pass a psyche exam first and anyways, the Chief wanted him to take a few days to collect himself. After all, he had been shot and that was no laughing matter.  
  
Only it had been for the Joker. That son of a bitch had found it downright hysterical. Punch line material even.  
  
He tossed the ball again and this time he threw it so high that it drifted out of reach and fell to the ground. It made a soft thud, rolled a few feet and then stopped next to the couch.  
  
He sighed. It had been a long three days. He had gone over to the Clocktower on the first night to check in on Helena but she had of course been sleeping. Since then he'd been passing time by watching every NBA game that he could find. And then staying glued to ESPN News as if he thought that something major could happen at any moment. Whatever the hell that might be.  
  
And once the allure of that had worn off, he had put in a tape of his favorite sports moments. And really the list of distractions went on. Even three viewings of his favorite movie hadn't been enough to take the edge off. He had almost even contemplated calling his mother but had quickly decided against that when he had realized that the majority of the conversation would likely revolve around his father.  
  
His senses were dancing. Whether he could attribute that to being a cop or just being more a part of the world around him than he'd like to admit, the end result was the same; he was on edge and waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
The Joker was in prison and being watched around the clock. The authorities were swearing that there was just no way that the madman could possibly escape.  
  
"So why don't I think that matters?" Reese muttered to himself, reaching out for his leather jacket. He pulled it on, enjoying the feel of the buttered leather against his skin.  
  
There was really only one thing to do. The Chief had no intention of letting his injured cop come into the shop to work on the case. Which meant that maybe it was finally time to go under and beneath the law.  
  
Maybe it was time to enter Helena's world and solve the case her way.  
  
Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe this was some kind of screwy test and he was supposed to keep his wits about himself and continue to play by the rules.  
  
But either way, he had to get involved.  
  
*****  
  
The man spun in his bed, his eyes wide and shocked. He looked up at the creature above him and blanched. He opened his mouth to call for help but the monster was upon him before he could even get the first syllable out. It ripped his throat from him and tossed it to the ground just before it buried its muzzle into what was left of him and began to rip away at the flesh. The last thing the man heard before he passed on was a horrible wailing noise.  
  
Five minutes after the creature had entered the room of Jay Wilson, it left. The room was splattered in blood and there were marks on every wall. The wallpaper was torn and shredded and the sheets were cut to ribbons.  
  
The man had known only a brief moment of fear that had lasted a millennium but he would never know anything ever again.  
  
And the creature continued to hunt.  
  
And she saw it all.  
  
****  
  
"Do you know what that is?" the Joker asked, looking at her from across the dark room. She was sitting in a desk facing him. She couldn't move but neither was she trying. Her exhaustion seemed to weigh her body down in such a manner that even contemplating a sudden movement seemed absurd.  
  
"One of your friends?" Helena asked, hoping to at least get answers. If she couldn't fight this thing well then maybe she could get enough information to help Barbara and Dinah do it.  
  
"It's you," he replied, seeming almost proud.  
  
"Bullshit," she hissed. "I'm not Darkstrike. I don't have that in me. Not that kind of killer."  
  
He just laughed. "Silly girl. You couldn't do that. You just give him life. You created him."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "You're insane."  
  
He laughed and nodded slowly. "That I am. But no one died."  
  
She blinked. "What?" His words didn't make sense; just weeks earlier, the Joker had murdered several people at a hospital during one of his bizarre violence sprees.  
  
He danced closer to her and she felt the chair beneath her disappear. She was starting to lose her patience with his weird manipulated dreamscape. It was starting to real bug the hell out of her.  
  
He pressed his palms against the sides of her head and leaned close to her. "No one died. It's all in here. You're killing them all."  
  
She pushed him violently away and jerked to her feet. She knew she wasn't supposed to be walking but she was damn well going to try. She forced herself to stand and then began to move towards him.  
  
And she might have even reached him if the creature hadn't appeared right at that moment. Directly in front of her. It snapped at her and tried to reach for her throat.  
  
She narrowly avoided it and spun backwards. Her eyes were locked on it, horrified and fascinated at its appearance. It seemed to be half-man and half-monster. Its eyes were steel grey but far too large to belong to a human. It had a muzzle like a dog but hands like a man. It was the most bizarre thing she had ever laid eyes on. And it was making the most pathetic sound. Like wailing. It was such a savage looking thing.  
  
And it scared the hell out of her.  
  
She turned from it, unable to continue looking at it without heaving. When she spun back, only the Joker remained in the dark room. He looked at her with a strange curiosity.  
  
"You're killing them," he said, sounding almost proud. He nodded slowly. "You'll do just fine."  
  
And then he turned and walked away, his back to her. His green hair flew wildly, almost like it was blowing in some imaginary wind. She heard him yell over his shoulder at her. "I now return you to your regularly scheduled program."  
  
And then, just like that, she was back in the middle of the original dream.  
  
Sitting on a mountain top. Enjoying the sun. Or something like that.  
  
"Wake up," she murmured, more afraid than she had ever been. "Please God, wake up."  
  
And she did. Just like that. She came awake gently and for once without a start. She sat up in her bed and blinked. She looked at the far wall and saw that she was in her own bed. On her own overly soft mattress.  
  
Back in her own apartment.  
  
"Barbara?" she asked, calling out into the air.  
  
She pushed the blankets back and looked down at her legs. To her astonishment, they looked fine. Neither was covered in a gauze bandage and both looked strong and healthy.  
  
"A dream?" she wondered, shaking a bit. She pushed herself up and felt the strength of her bones. She snapped off a quick kick and was relieved to feel the power of the move surge through her. "Weird," she whispered.  
  
She touched her neck and felt the necklace there. She traced her hand over the broach and frowned. The comm set was off but she could hear a soft crackling noise in the earpiece. She took the earrings off and examined them. The left one looked like it was bent.  
  
She stepped in front of her mirror and laughed. Her face had cuts on it and there was a large bruise under her left eye. There was dried blood on her cheek. "Nice," she muttered. "All a dream."  
  
She shook her head and crossed over to her kitchen. She pulled open her refrigerator door and peered in. The only things in there were a gallon of two percent milk and three bottles of cheap beer. She reached in and extracted the carton of milk and opened the top. Drinking directly from the opening, she downed the entire contents.  
  
She put the earring that wasn't crackling back in her ear and turned on the mic on the necklace. "Barbara?"  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
"Barbara?"  
  
"I'm here," a voice finally said. It sounded strange and distant. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. I had the strangest dream last night."  
  
"What about?" Barbara asked, still sounding so very far away. Helena wondered if maybe that was just the result of the comm set malfunctioning a bit. She figured that she had caused it some damage during whatever brawl she had been involved with on the previous evening.  
  
"I don't remember where I was last night," Helena said suddenly. She frowned. She scratched her head and felt a large welt on her scalp.  
  
"You don't?" Barbara inquired, not sounding terribly worried. Just very tired and almost resigned. No, that couldn't be it. Barbara was a lot of things but resigned would never be one of them. She was simply too strong for that.  
  
"No.I don't. Maybe I had."  
  
"Something to drink?" Barbara finished. "You've been doing that a lot lately. I thought we'd talked about that."  
  
"I have?" Helena asked, confused. She swallowed hard and squinted. Her eyes hurt. She stepped back in front of the mirror and blinked. She really did look pretty tore up. But not necessarily bad guy tore up. More like.barfight.  
  
"Yeah," Barbara said, sadness in her tone. "You have. This can't continue."  
  
"I.I don't remember," Helena said softly. "Where's Dinah?"  
  
"Dinah? Who's Dinah?"  
  
"Oh I get it.I have a hangover so you're trying to teach me a lesson. Okay, Barbara, I'm sorry. I guess I just wanted to party last night. I'll curb it."  
  
"I'm happy to hear that. I just."  
  
"What? You just what?"  
  
"I just don't know that I believe you anymore." She sounded so tired and almost depressed. Like she was worn down. It was such a strange sound. "I've heard this from you so many times now. Nothing ever changes."  
  
"What?" Helena demanded, anger causing her face to flush bright red. "What are you talking about? Are you okay?"  
  
"That's funny. Look, what don't you come over here. I hate arguing with you via comm. We should talk."  
  
"Right. Obviously. I'll shower and I'll be over." She shook her head. She clicked off the comm and then pulled the necklace off.  
  
She stripped off her clothes quickly and stepped into the shower. Two quick shoves of the toggle to the left and steam filled the room. The hot water pelted her back and soothed her muscles. She saw blood stream into the drain and wash down. Dirt followed soon. She made a face and watched as it swirled away. "Son of a bitch," she muttered.  
  
Her head ached and she soon realized that Barbara was right; she was hung- over. That in and of itself was nothing abnormal. She liked to drink. That Barbara was pissed about it was something new however. Barbara had always humored her vices. After all it wasn't like she had a drinking problem or even did it while out on patrol.  
  
Stepping out of the shower she dressed quickly. She gazed around her apartment, feeling a bit out of place. It was nothing that she could exactly place her finger on but something was definitely off. She glanced over and saw that the fish-tank was full. And all of the little fellas were alive and kicking.  
  
"Whatever," she muttered. She opened the window and dropped down to the street. She could have used the door but she had wanted to test her legs. To ensure that it was actually a dream and that the Joker hadn't actually nearly crippled her.  
  
Once she felt the cement beneath her heels, she looked to her left. Her rusty old Honda Accord was parked haphazardly on the curb. It was practically on the actual sidewalk. "Nice park job," she marveled. She slipped behind the wheel and powered up the car. She frowned when she saw an empty brown bottle lying discarded on the passenger seat. She decided to ignore it. She wasn't the type to drink and drive. Barbara would kick her ass if she tried.  
  
Helena shifted a bit in the seat and the pulled the seatbelt on. She wasn't big on driving but it was awfully cold. Barbara had bought her the car as a birthday present when she had turned eighteen. It wasn't much and she didn't drive it often but it got her around when she needed it.  
  
She pulled out into the street and looked behind her. Once she was clear, she slipped into the lane of traffic and started towards the Clocktower.  
  
She never saw the car that hit her head on.  
  
*****  
  
"Helena?"  
  
She blinked. The bright lights of the control room filled her vision. "What?"  
  
"Helena? Are you okay?"  
  
She felt a hand touch her arm and shake her a bit. She turned a bit and stared into the concerned eyes of her mentor. "What? Barbara?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm here," Barbara replied. She turned Helena towards her and placed a hand on either side of her face. "You dazed out.are you okay?"  
  
"Dazed out?" Helena asked, confusion overwhelming her. She blinked again and the lights dimmed enough so that she could realize that she was sitting in the leather recliner in front of the computers.  
  
"Right.we were talking."  
  
"We were?" Helena asked. Then she shook her head. "Of course we were. About me drinking?"  
  
"You've been drinking?" Barbara asked, a hint of alarm in her voice. "When? I don't have anything besides wine here and you hate wine."  
  
"I don't know?"  
  
"What do you mean you don't know?" Barbara asked. She placed a hand on Helena's forehead. "You're burning up."  
  
"I am?" She looked down at her legs and sighed. They were both covered in white tape and gauze. The wrap was loose enough to allow movement but their intent was clear; to help her heal from what the Joker had done to her. The injuries were real. "I guess I did faze out. I'm sorry."  
  
"And you were drinking?" Barbara asked, checking Helena's pulse.  
  
"No," Helena said, shaking her head. "I had a dream where I was. A really funky daydream I guess. I'm sorry, what were we talking about?"  
  
"Tyson."  
  
"Tyson?"  
  
"Andrew Tyson. You remember? The kid who was killed in the alley last night. I was asking you how you knew his name."  
  
Helena sighed. "I don't know. I honestly don't; it just popped into my head." She hated lying to Babs but she didn't quite understand herself and wasn't about to tell her mentor something that would alarm her unnecessarily.  
  
"You're sure?" Barbara asked. She didn't seem convinced. In fact she seemed almost certain that she was being lied to. Maybe she just knew Helena too well. Or maybe it was something else. Not like it really mattered what it was.  
  
"I am. I don't know. Do we know how he died? I mean by what?"  
  
"Not yet. The DNA scanners are coming up negative," Barbara admitted, sounding irritated. She gazed at Helena for a long moment. "You don't remember any of the conversation we just had?"  
  
Helena made a face. "No, I'm sorry. I don't. I guess I really was in another world."  
  
"That's okay. I'd like to."  
  
"No way. I just dazed out. That's all. I'm not going to let you stick me with any more needles or put any of your weird helmets on me."  
  
"I'm worried," Barbara insisted.  
  
"There's no need to be," Helena replied. "I'm just tired. I've not been sleeping well and I'm dazing out. Maybe I'll let you give me those no dream pills, okay?" She didn't want to sound too eager but inside she felt almost frantic. She needed to get through a night without seeing his face.  
  
"I just want to run a few more tests," Barbara pleaded. "You're burning up and your heart is pounding a mile a minute. You're not okay."  
  
Helena held up her hand. "No. That's final. I may not be able to walk much but I can still get away from you if you insist on being a pain in the ass."  
  
Barbara shot her a look. "You wish. You'd have to get out of that chair first."  
  
Helena looked down at the recliner she was in and chuckled. "You're not wrong there." She chewed her lip for a moment. "Look, really, I'm okay. I've just been having a few nightmares."  
  
"Fine," Barbara sighed, reluctantly giving in.  
  
"Good."  
  
"For now."  
  
"Now wait a minute."  
  
"No," Barbara said firmly. "If you have even one more blackout then I'm putting you back under the machine until I figure out what the hell is wrong with you."  
  
"Barbara."  
  
"This isn't up for debate, so don't think it is. You may want me to believe that you're fine but I don't. You're not sleeping, you're not eating and you're not staying awake very well either."  
  
"What's wrong?" a strong male voice said from the door.  
  
Helena looked over the side of the chair and smiled. Perhaps a bit too fully and enthusiastically. "Reese," she said.  
  
"Accounted for," he replied, stepping into the room. Inwardly Barbara scolded herself for not noticing his approach. She wasn't usually one to be caught off-guard by anyone.  
  
"Reese," Barbara greeted. "Good. Maybe you can talk some sense into her."  
  
He snorted. "Somehow that doesn't seem too likely." He stepped to the side of the chair and looked down. "How are you feeling today?"  
  
"Peachy."  
  
"That's good," he said and then looked at Barbara. "She's not peachy?"  
  
"She's not. No matter what she tells you, she's not. She's still blacking out."  
  
Helena twirled her hand in the air as if to show Barbara that she was bored with the conversation. She reached up and tugged on the sleeve of Reese's leather jacket. "How was your day?"  
  
He looked to Barbara first, seeming to ask if he was supposed to play along. She shrugged and he turned his attention back to the beautiful woman sitting in the leather recliner. "Boring. I was hoping you guys were working on the Tyson murder."  
  
"We are," Helena confirmed.  
  
"We are indeed. Somehow or another, Helena knew the identity of the victim before the police did," Barbara informed him as she turned back to the monitors.  
  
"How's that possible?" Reese queried, carefully watching Helena's face. The girl wasn't very good at hiding her emotions and the fear he saw there frightened him. No matter what she was telling anyone, she was far from okay.  
  
"It's not," Barbara said. "She hasn't left here since the night of the hospital shooting and to my knowledge, she was dead out when the killing happened."  
  
"So file that away under weird?" Helena offered.  
  
"Definitely," Barbara admitted. "But this feels like more."  
  
"Everything feels like more to you," Helena protested. "Doesn't mean it is. So I had a dream about him."  
  
"You had a dream?" Reese asked, sounding confused and maybe even a tad bit jealous. Helena shot him an amused look but he didn't seem to pick up on it.  
  
"You didn't tell me you had a dream," Barbara admonished, wheeling around to face Helena.  
  
"It wasn't important."  
  
Barbara shook her head and ignored the comment. Obviously it was important. "What did you see?"  
  
Helena sighed. She hadn't wanted to go into this. "It. I saw.okay.look.I think I saw him get attacked by that creature thing."  
  
"You saw the creature?" Barbara asked. "You mean like you saw when Reese got shot?"  
  
"You saw when I got shot?" Reese asked with alarm. He looked down at her.  
  
She offered him a sad smile and quickly looked away, unwilling to meet his eyes. She didn't want him to see the emotions that welled up in her when she thought about how close he had come to dying. And what a wonderful front row seat she had had to the performance.  
  
"Yeah, kind of like that," Helena admitted. "I saw him come out of the bar. He gave his number to some girl. That's when he said his name. Then he walked through the alley and the thing attacked him." She looked up frantically at Barbara. "I don't have prophetic dreams. I don't want them. That's Dinah's curse."  
  
"I know," Barbara said, shaking her head. "I admit, I don't know what's going on. These kinds of powers usually don't develop so late.and so much out of left field."  
  
"Telepathy?" Reese asked. This world was so new to him. People who could fly and make objects sail through the air. Science had long believed that there were things that the human brain could do that no one had yet conceived of but this was ridiculous.  
  
"Not exactly," Barbara corrected. "More like premonitions."  
  
"Which I don't want," Helena put in. "Not really my thing. If I want to go to a show, I'll sneak in and sit in the back. I don't like sitting up front." She grinned at Reese. "Unless I have company."  
  
"So what can you do?" Reese stammered, clearly thrown off by Helena's obvious flirting. He had gotten used to her playing with him but rarely had she been quite so open and obvious. She seemed almost girlish which was wickedly attractive. He liked her tough but there was something seductive about vulnerable.  
  
"Until we know what we're dealing with, not much. And she won't let me run further tests."  
  
"Will they hurt her?"  
  
Barbara spun and looked hard at him. She measured her words carefully for effect. "I would never hurt her."  
  
He swallowed hard. Helena touched his arm lightly. "He knows that." She smiled up at him and then sighed. "Fine. But if you fuck up my head worse, I'm gonna kick your ass."  
  
Barbara smiled. "Oh don't worry. I couldn't if I tried."  
  
"That's a relief?" Reese said, more of a question than a statement. He looked around almost wildly, seeming like he was stunned to be where he was. Like his feet hadn't quite hit the ground.  
  
Even with a J carved into the soft flesh of his side, he still wasn't quite getting that this was all so very real. And all so very bizarre.  
  
"Trust me," Barbara assured him. "It is." She sighed. "Okay. Detective, once again will you help me?"  
  
"Of course," he replied. He leaned down and picked Helena up into his arms. She wrapped her long limbs around his neck and put her head on his shoulder.  
  
"I could get used to being carried," Helena insisted, grinning at Barbara.  
  
Oracle just snorted. "This way."  
  
*****  
  
The pressure on her hand was what brought her around. It felt strong and bold yet soft and definitively female. She opened her eyes with great strain and looked into the blood-shot blues of Barbara Gordon. Who looked like she had been crying for hours.  
  
"Barbara?" she asked groggily. "Oh God, my head."  
  
"You're awake," the red-haired woman said with relief.  
  
"Yeah. I am." Helena replied. She looked around the room and saw that she was lying in a hospital bed. The blankets were tight around her waist and machines beeped nearby. A bag only a few feet away was pushing blood into a tube that was going into her arm. "Where am I?"  
  
"The hospital," Barbara told her. "They brought you in after your crash."  
  
"My crash? What?" Helena shook her head, desperately trying to get the cobwebs out of her head. "Where's Reese?"  
  
"Who's Reese?" Barbara asked. Then she sighed. "What were you thinking?"  
  
"That sounds like a trick question and what do you mean 'who's Reese'? You know, Reese? The cute cop?"  
  
"Cute cop? Is this one that's arrested you?"  
  
Helena snorted. "As if. I mean.he's certainly tried a few times but that's it."  
  
"I don't know who he is," Barbara informed her. Then she laughed almost bitterly. "I don't know who you are these days either."  
  
"What are you talking about? Barbara, why am I here?" Helena demanded, fear beginning to choke her. She tried looking into her mentor's eyes but there was a strange distance between them. Like a wall.  
  
"You crashed your car into another one. You were driving on the wrong side of the road," Barbara informed her. "When they brought you in.they didn't think you were going to make it."  
  
"But I did," Helena said. "I'm okay, right?"  
  
Barbara nodded. "Physically."  
  
"I don't think I like how that sounds. Is something wrong with my head?"  
  
"That seems to be the question of the hour," Barbara replied. She reached out and took Helena's hand. "Where did I go wrong?"  
  
"You didn't," Helena insisted. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I don't remember what happened but I'm okay."  
  
Barbara offered her a sad smile. "This is my fault. I knew you'd been drinking. I shouldn't have had you come over until you had sobered up." She pushed her wheelchair back and began to circle the room, head in her hands.  
  
"I'm not drunk," Helena insisted. "And I wasn't drunk when I got in the car." She was beginning to remember now. She had jumped from the window and gotten into the Honda. No fuss and no muss. Sure she had had one hell of a hangover but that wasn't the same as being plastered.  
  
"That's not with blood alcohol tests say," a voice said from the doorway. Helena looked up and smiled.  
  
"Reese," she said. "Thank God."  
  
He looked at her quizzically. "I don't think we've met before Ms. Kyle." He turned towards Barbara. "I'm Detective Reese of the GCPD. I've been assigned to this murder investigation."  
  
"Murder?" Helena cried out. She shrank back against the bed. "Okay, I don't know what the hell you two are pulling but it's definitely not funny."  
  
"No, it's not," Reese confirmed and sure enough he wasn't laughing. Nor did he seem like he was about to start. He was holding a pad of paper in his hand which he was using to jot down notes. "You killed three people a week and a half ago."  
  
"What?" Helena blanched, the color rushing from her face. She felt suddenly faint. "I.you're mistaken.Reese.come on.you know I'm not killer."  
  
He shook his head. "Tell that to the family. Tell that to the judge. I don't care. As soon as you're able, you will be brought down to the jail and you will be charged with vehicular murder." His usually handsome face was twisted with righteous rage. He was seriously pissed off.  
  
Helena fell back against the bed. She looked up at Barbara who had tears in her eyes. "I."  
  
Barbara just looked away. There was shame there. And so much disappointment. She couldn't even meet her young charge's eyes. She didn't want to.  
  
There was nothing left to say.  
  
*****  
  
"So she's dreaming?" Reese asked, looking over Barbara's shoulder. Helena was lying on the metal bed, her body almost completely still except for her eyelids which were twitching like crazy.  
  
"Indeed," Barbara murmured. "And quite actively too." She turned to examine one of the monitors. "This isn't one of your run of the mill dreams. She's very involved in this one. Emotionally anyways."  
  
"A nightmare then?"  
  
"Possibly," Barbara admitted. "Her blood pressure and heart rate are up so whatever is going on in there is affecting her."  
  
"Is she in danger from this?" Reese asked. "Look, I'm a cop. I don't get all of these psychic bells and whistles but I know what I see and she doesn't seem okay. I thought she was getting better."  
  
"So did I. Look, dreams are typically very healthy," Barbara said by way of explanation. "But not always. If they start taking an enormous emotional and physical toll on you, it begins counteracting any productive gains. We're way past that now. Whatever dreams she's been having, they're starting to affect her waking world."  
  
"Why do you say that?" Reese asked, looking down at Helena again. She looked so different when she was sleeping. When she couldn't be grinning at him and looking like she was seconds from pulling off the heist of the century. When she wasn't flirting like she was born to do only that. The woman was a certain kind of toxic that he didn't necessarily mind.  
  
"When she and I were talking earlier, it was like she completely drifted out. She was literally somewhere else. She didn't hear a thing I said but it was more than just that she wasn't paying attention."  
  
"Okay so you're saying she was having a daydream?"  
  
"I'm saying she was stuck in that daydream."  
  
"So how did she get out?"  
  
"She brought herself out."  
  
"I'm not sure I understand. You're saying she's created some secondary reality?"  
  
"More or less correct."  
  
"So why is she threatened there? I mean wouldn't she have created this place as some kind of safe haven away from something she couldn't deal with? Or am I just talking out of my ass?"  
  
"That doesn't sound fun," Dinah said as she entered the room. She tossed her backpack on to one of the tables.  
  
"How was school?" Barbara asked as she wheeled around to the table and picked up the backpack. She slid over to the closet and hung it up.  
  
"Sorry," Dinah said hunching her shoulders apologetically. "It was fine. What's wrong with Helena? Did she collapse again?"  
  
"We don't know," Barbara said. She looked over at Reese. "And I agree, it doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense. It seems almost like she's created something that is even more stressful."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Dinah asked. There was alarm in her voice.  
  
"We put Helena under so that we could try to figure out what's going on in her head. She hasn't been sleeping at all and today she couldn't stay awake either."  
  
"Aren't those symptoms of the same?"  
  
"Sometimes," Barbara said, her ponytail bobbing as she nodded. She had pulled her hair back when they had come into the med bay. "If you haven't been sleeping then your body could be so tired that you couldn't stay awake. But she wasn't exactly sleeping. She was just.not there."  
  
"So I should see what's going on in there," Dinah suggested.  
  
Barbara held up a hand. "Not yet. I don't want to go poking around in there unless we absolutely have to."  
  
"Okay," Dinah agreed. "So, what are we finding out then?"  
  
Barbara let out a frustrated sigh. "I honestly don't know. We should bring her around."  
  
Reese placed a hand on her shoulder. "This isn't your fault. She knows you're doing the best you can. You'll figure it out."  
  
Barbara favored him with a small smile and then turned back to the monitors. "Okay we're going to bring her out of this slowly."  
  
*****  
  
"I was on the right side of the road," Helena insisted, looking directly up at the cop who said his name was Jesse Reese. He looked like Reese and he even dressed like him but the coldness in the man was so very disturbing. Reese was a stick in the mud but he was rarely so icy.  
  
"Like I said, tell it to a jury. Three eye-witnesses saw you stagger to your car and then pull out into oncoming traffic."  
  
"They're lying."  
  
"Helena, please," Barbara said, sounding so old. "For once can't you take responsibility for anything you do?"  
  
"This isn't right," Helena said shaking her head. She looked up at Barbara with desperation. "You were going to run tests."  
  
"What tests?"  
  
"My legs!" Helena cried out, pulling the blankets off from around her waist. She hissed a bit as the fabric slid against whatever injuries she had sustained in the car crash.  
  
"What about your legs? They were about the only part of you that wasn't nearly crushed in the crash. You will walk again," Barbara said with bitterness.  
  
"Lucky you," Reese said, his dark eyes cutting through her. She shivered a bit and looked away.  
  
She looked down at herself and saw that true to Barbara's words, her legs looked fine. Neither was wrapped. One of them had a two inch scrape down the top of it but otherwise they were fine.  
  
"They're broken," she murmured. She looked up at Barbara with tears in her eyes. "They're broken. He broke them."  
  
"Who's he?" Barbara asked. She looked up at Reese and shrugged.  
  
"The Joker. Come on, you remember. He kidnapped me."  
  
"That's not funny," Barbara admonished, a flash of anger lighting up her face. Her face was creased and she looked like she was about to go off.  
  
"How dare you mention him," Reese snapped, seemingly mortified.  
  
Helena looked desperately at him. "What? You don't know him? You really don't know? Come on, Reese. You remember you used to see him as a kid."  
  
"I am warning you to shut the hell up," Reese replied, his tone harsh.  
  
"Your father and him had a working relationship. Al Hawke."  
  
The words were barely out of her mouth before he struck her. Hard and with the flat of his palm. She blinked and fell backwards.  
  
"Reese?" she asked. She placed a hand on her cheek and felt the violent heat beneath her palm. She shook her head, not understanding the fury she saw when she looked into his dark eyes. He was going to hurt her.  
  
Barbara looked up at him, surprise also in her eyes but when she saw the cop's anger, she backed down. Almost like maybe she thought maybe Helena deserved what she got.  
  
"Do not say another word about him, do you understand me?"  
  
"Fuck you," Helena snapped back, anger making her bold. "I don't know what game you're playing here but if you think I'm gonna let you hit me."  
  
He turned away from her and stared at the wall. Then he turned back and glared at her. He strode quickly across the room and grabbed her face, holding her jaw between his fingers. "You will keep your mouth shut or I will shut it for you. Permanently. Trust me; no one is going to care what happens to you."  
  
"Barbara," Helena demanded, hissing between her teeth. Her mentor just turned away from her. "Barbara!"  
  
"Helena, please. For once, do something with dignity."  
  
Helena sagged back against the pillows. Reese released her and then stood back and glared at her.  
  
"Good," he said. "Now that we're agreed. You get better, huh? Your trial will be here before you know it and you will pay."  
  
And with that he left the room.  
  
"I don't understand," Helena said, looking at Barbara. Hoping so desperately for answers. "I didn't kill anyone."  
  
"Five," Barbara replied.  
  
"What? No."  
  
"Four."  
  
"You're not making sense."  
  
"Three."  
  
"Please," Helena begged.  
  
"Two."  
  
"You're scaring the hell out of me."  
  
"One."  
  
"This isn't funny."  
  
"Wake up."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Helena, wake up!"  
  
****  
  
She blinked and came awake violently, her arms thrusting outwards and managing to just miss connecting with Dinah's face. The small blonde tilted backwards and nearly hit the wall.  
  
"Helena," Barbara said, grabbing both of her young charge's errant hands. She drew them together and held them between hers. "You're okay. You're awake."  
  
She took a deep breath and then looked around. She was half-lying on the medical bed in the middle of the lab. Dinah was leaning against the wall and Reese was standing a few feet away. "Oh I'm so confused," she muttered.  
  
"Bad dreams?" Reese asked, moving towards her. Instinctively she drew away from him. He put up a hand as if to tell her that he wouldn't do it again and then he retreated back towards one of the tables. He looked over at Barbara with concern. She just shrugged, as uncertain as he was.  
  
"Sorry," Helena apologized. "Yeah, bad dreams."  
  
Barbara sat down on the bed next to her. "Do you remember the dreams?"  
  
Helena quickly shook her head. "No. Not at all."  
  
"But you know that they were bad?" Reese pushed, clearly not believing her. He watched her from across the room with an expression that confused Helena. She had had men be into her. Very into her. This was different. The look he had on his face was unlike anything she had ever seen before and thus she wasn't quite sure what it meant.  
  
Helena shrugged. "They weren't restful," she said. She wasn't about to tell them that she was having some bizarre recurring nightmare that involved doppelgangers of her family and friends. She rather figured that they might be insulted. They'd probably think that subconsciously she saw them as villains or something screwy like that. Best not to even get into that discussion.  
  
"I imagine not," Barbara said, examining some very large piece of paper that she was holding in her hands.  
  
"What's that?" Dinah asked, looking over Barbara's shoulder.  
  
"Mm? Oh. This is a brainwave print-out."  
  
"Interesting," Helena said with a bit of a grin. "What's it say?"  
  
Barbara snorted. "It says you're insane."  
  
"You put me in your cracked machine just to find that out?" Helena teased her. She pushed herself into the sitting position and then hefted herself up and out. She wobbled a bit as she stood and looked like she was about to topple.  
  
"I got you," Reese said, reaching across to her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and let her rest her head on his shoulder.  
  
"I'm fine," she whispered into his ear. She was grinning deviously. Even as mentally exhausted as she was, she still looked playful. He just shook his head. "Do we have any stir-fry?"  
  
"Stir-fry?" Barbara asked, incredulous.  
  
"Yeah. Stir-fry. I feel like stir-fry. If I'm gonna be hooked up to machines all day then I damn well better get some good food out of this."  
  
"I think I can arrange that," Barbara laughed. "Will you be staying for dinner, Detective?"  
  
He snorted. "Because I have somewhere else to be."  
  
Helena glanced over at Dinah and grinned. "They call that sarcasm."  
  
"I wouldn't have guessed that. Thanks," Dinah retorted. "Go ahead, hide behind him."  
  
Helena winked at her. "You're awfully bold when I can't fight back."  
  
"Learned from the best," Dinah smirked. Then she looked at Barbara. "Should I call Alfred?"  
  
"No," Barbara said with a chuckle. "I'm capable of cooking as well."  
  
"Call Alfred," Helena whispered.  
  
"Look who's talking," Barbara said. "At least I don't start a fire every time I turn on the stove."  
  
"It only happened once," Helena retorted. She smiled up at Reese who was watching her with bemusement.  
  
"I'll call Alfred," Dinah decided.  
  
"Smart," Barbara said with a smile.  
  
*****  
  
"You wanted him to stay," Dinah insisted, just as she knocked back the shot. It had been filled to the brim with peach schnapps. Barbara had apparently decided that since it was a Friday and no one was leaving, it was okay if she had a few drinks.  
  
"I did," Helena admitted, following suit. She turned the shot glass upside down.  
  
"No stay-overs," Barbara said as she drowned her shot. She made a face and then turned it upside down.  
  
"Thanks mom," Helena teased. "I appreciate you protecting my virginity."  
  
Barbara snorted and then reached over to refill the shot glasses. "Dinah, it's your deal." She indicated towards the playing cards that were scattered between them.  
  
"What's with the snorting?" Helena demanded. "I could be a virgin."  
  
"You could be, yes. Only you're addicted to sex."  
  
Helena thought for a moment. She took the offered shot and placed it in front of her. Then she made a face. "You're not wrong." She sighed. "Oh well."  
  
"Thanks for the sex-ed class," Dinah snarked as she began to deal the cards. They were black plastic Vegas style cards.  
  
"Sorry," Barbara said, a hint of red in her cheeks.  
  
"You're welcome," Helena grinned. "On three then?"  
  
"You never remember three," Barbara insisted.  
  
"You're not wrong there either," Helena admitted just before she lifted the shot glass and downed it. Dinah quickly followed suit, showing not even the slightest bit of a reaction to drinking the alcohol. Barbara made a mental note to grill Dinah about that later. Most sixteen year olds with a sunny demeanor didn't tend to be the type to down liquor like it was soda.  
  
"What the hell," Barbara muttered just before she swigged back her shot. "Okay, what's the game?"  
  
"No Man Bingo?" Helena suggested.  
  
"I didn't make him leave."  
  
"But you didn't let him stay either."  
  
"I didn't think you guys were at spending the night yet," Barbara protested.  
  
"We're not," Helena admitted. "But I feel bad for him. He's not working right now. He needed something to do. We should have been friendly."  
  
"I am friendly," Barbara insisted.  
  
"Yeah, that was friendly," Dinah snorted. "Detective, I think it's going to be an early night for everyone."  
  
"You're mocking me," Barbara charged.  
  
Dinah nodded. "Admittedly." She looked to Helena. "Am I any good at it?"  
  
"Well you're not bad but you have to get that irritated look down. You know.the one."  
  
"The Annoyance Look."  
  
"Right. That."  
  
"I do not have an Annoyance Look."  
  
Both of the girls looked at each other and laughed. Helena turned to her. "Yes, you do. But it's okay. We still love you."  
  
"That's great. I'm loved and I have an Annoyance Look."  
  
"That about sums it up," Dinah noted. She was about to make a comment to Helena when she noticed that her friends' eyes had gone vacant.  
  
Like she had just zoned out.  
  
"Helena?" Dinah asked with alarm.  
  
Barbara noticed the odd change as well and moved over. The three of them had all been sitting on the floor of the living room. Barbara used her arms to push herself over to Helena's side. She touched the girls' face. "Helena?"  
  
"Is she there?" Dinah inquired, her voice low.  
  
Barbara gazed deep into Helena's blue eyes. "No," she finally replied. "Not at all."  
  
*****  
  
"Ms. Kyle? How do you plead?" the man asked, his voice strong and accented. He was staring down at her from the judge's bench.  
  
"Plead?" she asked, blinking hard. She looked around. "Not again." She was standing in the middle of an overly large room that looked like the interior of a courthouse.  
  
"I beg your pardon," the judge snapped. "This is very serious. I caution you not to take this as a joke."  
  
"I'm not supposed to be here," Helena informed him, looking around. A cursory glance down at her legs confirmed her suspicion; she was once again back in weird world.  
  
The judge glanced down at the man who was standing next to her. He looked like he was about fifteen. Complete with pimples and greasy black hair. "Do you need a continuance, Counselor?"  
  
The kid glanced at her nervously. "Go ahead," he urged her. "Do what we agreed."  
  
"What did we agree?" she asked, fighting down the sudden urge to slap the hell out of the kid. She could smell his cologne and it was obnoxious.  
  
"Go ahead. Plead guilty," he hissed at her. He shifted nervously.  
  
"Fuck no," she snapped. She looked up at the judge. "I didn't kill anyone."  
  
"That's not what we agreed," the kid growled.  
  
"Is there a problem?" the judge asked.  
  
"No," Helena replied quickly, cutting the junior lawyer off. "Not guilty."  
  
"I had been of the understanding that there was going to be a plea bargain," the judge said, irritation clearly coloring his voice.  
  
Helena turned and looked around. She saw Barbara sitting a few rows back. Her mentor looked tired and exhausted. Alfred was seated next to her, his expression unreadable as always.  
  
"So were we, your Honor," the DA snapped. She was a rather uptight looking woman with a severe bun and streaks of gray.  
  
"I didn't kill anyone," Helena reiterated. Her eyes were still locked on Barbara's. There wasn't support or compassion in them and that was strange and unusual.  
  
"Please" Barbara said, just her lips moving. Her eyes were rimmed red from hours of crying.  
  
Helena shook her head, confused and disorientated. She couldn't quite figure out how she kept sliding back into this strange bizarro world.  
  
"Would you like to enter a plea, Ms. Kyle?"  
  
She turned back to face the judge. "Yes."  
  
"You are aware that when you enter this plea, any and all deals will be off the table. "  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And you will be eligible for the death penalty."  
  
"What?" Helena snapped. "Are you mad?"  
  
The judge glared down at her. "I would watch your tone if I were you. You are on trial for the murder of three young adults. This is not a joking matter and I am quickly losing my patience.."  
  
"I didn't kill anyone!"  
  
Her lawyer placed a hand on her arm. "Just plead," he urged. "Please."  
  
She shook him away. "Not guilty," she snapped.  
  
"So entered," the judge replied. "Bailiff, please remand the prisoner to custody."  
  
"Whoa, bail?"  
  
"It was denied," the kid whispered into her ear. He looked at her with amazement. "Stop acting crazy."  
  
The judge slammed his gavel against the table with a finality that made Helena cringe. She felt the officer slap cuffs on her wrists. She contemplated trying to make a break but that was when she saw Reese in the doorway.  
  
He was watching her with a coolness that frankly scared her. He was dressed all in black, his holster poking through his jacket. His hand was rested on the butt of his service pistol.  
  
She had no doubt in the world that if she were to try to escape, he would shoot her like a dog. And that very thought scared the living hell out of her.  
  
"Why didn't you take the deal?" Barbara asked, gliding her chair next to her. "You said you were going to."  
  
"Barbara, I didn't do anything," Helena insisted. "I don't know what's going on but something is really wrong here."  
  
"I know," Barbara agreed. She shook her head. "Look, I'll try to stop by later. We'll talk. We have so much to talk about."  
  
"Okay," Helena said nodding. She glared at the officer as he began to push her towards the door.  
  
"Good. Maybe you'll see reason," Barbara offered thoughtfully.  
  
Helena opened her mouth to reply but Barbara had already turned away and was wheeling herself over to Alfred's side. Helena wondered idly where Babs' electronic wheelchair was.  
  
"You embarrassed me," the kid lawyer said as he caught up. "Are you insane?"  
  
"Yes. And nice lawyering. The death penalty. It's vehicular murder you moron. You can't be put to death for that."  
  
The kid snorted. "You're really whacked. Driving drunk has been a special condition here in Gotham for the last five years."  
  
Helena shook her head. Everything felt so heavy. "Here in Gotham?"  
  
"Let's go," the officer said as he shoved her hard.  
  
"Gotham doesn't have its own judicial system. We're run by the state of New York," Helena insisted.  
  
"Maybe I should see if the judge will let you plead insanity," the kid mulled. He shook his head. "Figures my luck. First case after passing the bar and I get a nutbag who can't even help to defend herself."  
  
"Screw you," she hissed. The cop gave her another shove. She was about to turn around to face plant the little bastard when she saw Reese standing directly in front of her.  
  
He grabbed her face hard and yanked her around so that she was facing him. "Stop fucking around."  
  
And then he hit her. Hard enough to make every bell start ringing in her head. The cop let her go and she dropped to the ground. Reese bent down and over her. "They'll never know you existed."  
  
And the lights came on.  
  
*****  
  
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she said quickly, pushing the hands away from her. They seemed like they were all over her, touching and prodding. "Just stop."  
  
"You're back," Dinah announced.  
  
"I wasn't gone," Helena insisted. "I just dozed off."  
  
"In the middle of talking?" Barbara asked. That was when Helena noticed that they were still on the floor of the living room. The TV was off now but two of the overhead lights had been turned on and they were glaring into her eyes. She winced a bit and dropped her head.  
  
"Where's Reese?"  
  
"At home I presume."  
  
"He's not like crazy Gestapo like is he?"  
  
"Not last I knew," Barbara replied. She lifted her hand as if to lay it against Helena's forehead but the younger woman evaded the touch and scowled at her mentor. "Helena, I'm really worried now. Even you know this isn't normal."  
  
"I know," Helena said, dropping her head. "But I think I can deal with it. They're just nightmares, right?" There was a kind of urgent desperation in her tone. And fear. A lot of it.  
  
"I don't think so. Not anymore. You keep losing contact. It's almost like you're going catatonic. When you go into one of those states, you're not receiving any type of sensory input."  
  
"Um."  
  
"You're like a vegetable," Dinah cribbed for her. "It's pretty creepy."  
  
"Thanks," Helena said weakly. "I don't know what's going on. I don't."  
  
"Does this have something to do with those emotional black-outs she's been suffering?"  
  
"I presume so. I just don't know how," Barbara admitted. "Do you remember anything of the visions?"  
  
"No," Helena said quickly. She knew full well that it was probably in her best interest to be straight with them at this point but fear overwhelmed that simple common sense.  
  
In her imaginary world, Barbara Gordon was ashamed of her. She was disappointed in her and she looked like she had been broken by her troubled young protégé.  
  
That alone was something that Helena could ill deal with. But to actually put those emotions and feelings into words was more than she could comprehend.  
  
Because what if they were true?  
  
What if all this was guilt and a window looking in?  
  
What if Barbara really was ashamed?  
  
"You're lying," Barbara announced. She was starting directly at Helena, challenging her. Typically Huntress would have met the contest head-on but instead, she backed off.  
  
"I'm not. I don't remember. Dreams don't stay with me."  
  
"You saw that kid Tyson die, right?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Someone else was killed by the creature."  
  
"I know," Helena said softly, thoughtfully. "In his own bed."  
  
"So you do remember your dreams," Barbara inserted. She reached out to touch Helena's hand. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it."  
  
"I remember the killings. I swear that's it."  
  
Barbara offered her a sad smile. "Okay. Do you think you can sleep tonight?"  
  
"Do you have any of those no dream pills?" Helena asked, a bit more urgently than she would have liked.  
  
"Yeah, I think so. Why don't you get into bed and I'll bring them in."  
  
"Okay. Thanks," Helena said, a bit of relief in her voice. She was thankful that Barbara had stopped pushing because she didn't know what she would have done if Oracle had insisted on knowing the content of her dreams.  
  
Dinah came around and offered Barbara an arm. She pulled Oracle to her feet and then helped her into her chair. The wheelchair buzzed to life and then began to move towards the door. Barbara stopped halfway there and turned. "You've always been a terrible liar."  
  
There was a long beat and then finally, softly, Helena Kyle replied, "I know. Just don't lose faith in me."  
  
Barbara cocked her head to the side, concern deep in her eyes. She shook her head then, desperately needing to get her point across. "Never," she promised.  
  
*****  
  
"What did you do to me?" she demanded, glaring at the green-haired monster. He was sitting across from her, looking almost passive. Of course there was a long wooden table between them. He was clothed in prison garb and his wrists were cuffed together in front of him. Heavy metal chains drooped outward from his belt and hung down to his ankles. H e wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.  
  
"Poor little kitty isn't happy," he sung out. He looked almost sad. His bright red lips were a bit chapped and he looked like he had been drooling. They had likely been keeping him quite drugged. Even so, he was insanely dangerous and the various guards littered around the room were evidence of that.  
  
"Tell me what you did to me or I will kill you," she hissed to him. "As it is, the only thing standing between you and me right now is all these cops and their guns. And if you think my legs will stop me, you couldn't be more wrong."  
  
"And your boy-toy," he informed her, glancing beyond her. And sure enough Reese was leaning against the wall. It had been he who had gotten her the ticket into the high security prison. He had pulled just about every string he had to get her ten minutes with the state's most notorious psychopath.  
  
"Start talking," she growled. Her eyes flashed red and for the briefest of moments she lost all connection to her own humanity as she considered the delight she would feel if she were to rip his throat from him. Frankly the thought both aroused and horrified her.  
  
He looked up at her, his eyes suddenly alert. "He is inside of you. You created him. You created all of this. None of it is real. You killed them all. You're killing them all. Why did you see me like this?"  
  
She practically flew across the table and she might have even torn his very life from him if not for Reese anticipating the move. He grabbed her in his arms and lifted her off the ground, crushing her to his chest even as she thrashed and tried desperately to get away from him. He used the advantage he had of her not being able to really stand independent of support and held her above the ground.  
  
"Stop," he commanded. "Enough."  
  
The Joker reached across the table, practically pushing his entire body over its wood length and he touched one of his palms to the back of her hand. "It is you. It will always be you. I'm so proud."  
  
She lurched again but Reese held her tight, wondering if he would pay for it with bruises later. She was certainly beating the hell out of his chest in an effort to escape his grasp.  
  
One of the guards stepped forward, looking nervous. "Detective."  
  
"We're gone," Reese assured him. He turned to glare at the Joker. Then he leaned down. "If you're hurting her, I will stop you. So you keep smiling Laughing Boy, it comes around."  
  
He backed away and lifted Helena up. She was staring straight forward, her face contorted in anger and rage. She was still squirming a bit but he had her well under control. "You should have let me have him."  
  
"You're not a killer," Reese told her. "That's not you. That's his game. You're not a killer."  
  
She cocked her head and looked at him, confusion in her blue eyes. "But I am." She had stopped struggling and it felt almost like she had collapsed against him.  
  
"What?"  
  
She looked down at her hands and then out at the street as they stepped out of the prison and into the cold New Gotham air. The wind picked up a stray scrap of paper and blew it past them. Leaves tumbled around creating a visual masterpiece of greens and golds.  
  
"Reese, I killed people."  
  
"No, you didn't," he assured her.  
  
"I did," she said. "I killed three people and now I'm going to pay for it."  
  
*****  
  
"Under the power invested in me by the Governor of Gotham, I do hereby sentence you to death for the savage murders of the McKinley family. Death shall be by lethal injection."  
  
She shook her head. "No, it was an accident." This simply couldn't be real. Justice was strange but not to this degree. She couldn't even recall her own trial.  
  
"You should have taken the plea," her lawyer hissed at her. "You would have gotten life."  
  
The judge looked down at her with hatred in his eyes. She flinched back away from him, horrified. "In all of my time on this bench, I have never crossed such an unredeemable waste of human flesh. You are nothing but a cancer upon everyone you know. They will be better off without you. Perhaps in your last moments you can aspire to some humanity but I can assure you that you will not be missed."  
  
"It was an accident," she said again, tears in her eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone."  
  
The desperation she felt was coursing through her. She wanted to fight but she suddenly felt so weak. So tired. What did it manner anyways? After all, wasn't it all inevitable?  
  
"Don't say another word. You've had your say," the judge snapped. "Remove her from here immediately. Get her out of my face."  
  
She tried to protest, tried to break away but the strong hands held her. She looked up and saw Reese watching her, a look of satisfaction on his face. He looked away from her and bent over Barbara. He touched Oracle's cheek and she smiled at him. Helena thought that she was about to heave. It had to all be a heinous nightmare. Killing people while driving drunk and then getting the death penalty for it? Martial law in Gotham?  
  
"Barbara," Helena said, looking at her mentor, almost begging for help. Oracle had always come through for her before.  
  
The redhead seemed to be upset but she refused to make eye-contact. She continued to speak to Reese who had dropped into the seat beside her.  
  
"Barbara!" Helena called out as the officer moved her out of the room.  
  
Barbara never looked up.  
  
*****  
  
"She's been like this since the prison. I knew I should have never brought her there. He did something to her," Reese said, pacing the room. He was waving his hands around wildly, showing his frustration in spades. "He touched her. He must have done something. Damn."  
  
"It's not your fault," Barbara murmured, looking over the scans. Finally she sighed. "Dinah."  
  
"I'm here," Dinah said softly. She moved over to Helena's side and looked down at her catatonic friend. Her eyes were open but she was clearly somewhere else. The monitors were going wild as her heartbeat continued to climb. If they didn't slow its rise soon, she could easily have a heart attack. Or worse.  
  
"It's time," Barbara informed her, placing a hand on Dinah's arm. "If you're ready?"  
  
"I'm ready," Dinah insisted.  
  
"Are you sure this is smart?" Reese asked, watching Dinah closely. She was just a kid. The idea of entering someone's mind to try to pull them out was both a terrible risk and an awesome responsibility. Apparently she had done it once before but this was far different. This wasn't like being locked in a memory. This was far more dangerous and deadly. Dinah was well aware of the fact that the possibility existed that she herself might not come out.  
  
"No," Barbara admitted. "But I don't think we have any other options."  
  
"We don't," Dinah confirmed, her voice strong. She had come a long way in a short time. The strength that she had gained through her new family had made her brave. "And this is my choice and I'm going in."  
  
A loud buzzer went off in the room. "What the hell is that?"  
  
"Delphi," Barbara muttered.  
  
"Right. I forgot. Problem?"  
  
Barbara wheeled over to look at it. "There's been another attack."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"South Petersburg and Pine. Downtown."  
  
Reese grabbed for his jacket. "I'm on it. I got to do something here or I'll go crazy waiting." He looked at Dinah. "Get her out."  
  
"I will," Dinah promised, touching his arm lightly. She felt a surge of emotions enter her mind. A smile flittered across her face but she managed to hold her tongue until the handsome cop had stepped into the elevator.  
  
"What?" Barbara said, curiosity lining her face.  
  
"He's got it bad," Dinah grinned.  
  
Barbara chuckled. "You needed telepathy to get that?"  
  
Dinah just winked. "Okay, I'm ready."  
  
"On three then. And by three.I mean my three, not Helena's."  
  
"Three," Dinah said suddenly and reached out for Helena's hand. She closed her eyes and focused until all she saw in her mind was a sharp burning light that blinded her.  
  
And when the light faded enough so that she could focus, she was somewhere else entirely. Right in the middle of Helena Kyle's nightmare.  
  
*****  
  
"So it's actually supposed to end like this?" Helena asked, looking up and into the madman's eyes. He was watching her with what looked almost like sympathy and sorrow. Her body felt so tired and drained.  
  
She was sitting in her cell, wearing only an orange jumpsuit with the numbers 52341 printed on it in large black block letters. There was a half- full tray of uneaten food sitting a few feet in front of her. Last meal and all. She couldn't recall what she had ordered. Hell, she could barely remember how this whole thing had started. Only that it had been so damn quick. So much was missing and so little made sense. But none of that really mattered now. Her execution was imminent and there wasn't going to be any last minute calls from the Governor of Gotham. Whoever and however the hell that be.  
  
But that wasn't even the weirdest part of everything. No, in the strangest twist of fate humanly possible, the Joker had somehow or another been cast in the roll of the prison Chaplin who was offering penance and Last Rights to the sinners.  
  
Ironic really.  
  
"We all make our beginnings and ends," he said, holding a book in his white gloved hands. It surely wasn't the Bible. In fact it didn't look like much more than a dummy prop. "You couldn't continue. They'll be better off without you."  
  
"I didn't mean any harm," she insisted. She felt so strange within her own body. She had spent so much of her life fighting and pushing. Never quitting. Now as she searched for inner strength, she found that she lacked the energy to continue. The fight to go on.  
  
"But you always hurt everyone around you. Batgirl. Remington Bozo. Your mother," he reminded her. He almost seemed desperate to make her understand. Like it was the only way that he could grant her peace.  
  
"You hurt my mother," she replied, not even terribly certain of that anymore. She wasn't quite sure what was real anymore. Only that everything hurt.  
  
He shook his head. "She was killed because she was out with you. You wanted to go the movies that night. She wasn't feeling well but you wanted to go out. She'd still be alive if it weren't for you."  
  
Helena dropped her head; he spoke the truth. On that cold night so many years ago, she had begged her mother to go out. Selina Kyle hadn't been seriously ill or anything but she had been fighting off the last of a nasty cold and she had made her feelings about wanting to stay home very well known.  
  
And then like always, she had given in to her strong-willed daughter. Selina always gave in.  
  
And on that night, she had died because of it.  
  
"It should have been you," the Joker told her, moving closer. This time she lacked the strength to recoil. "Your mother had such value to this world. What do you bring?"  
  
"I try."  
  
"You fail," he said, cutting her off. "You'll never succeed at anything. You never have."  
  
"I have," she insisted, fairly weakly.  
  
"You can't even fight now. Pathetic."  
  
He stood and dropped the book. His demeanor had changed completely. "The daughter of Batman. A nothing."  
  
He shook his head in disgust and dismay. Then he turned towards her and pointed one long white finger. "You bore me. You can die now."  
  
*****  
  
"She's in," Barbara said, eyes locked on the monitors.  
  
"If she gets in trouble, can we bring her out?" Alfred inquired, looking over Barbara's shoulder.  
  
"We could try," Barbara said with a curt nod. "However Dinah could refuse the pull-out and try to remain in. We'd only do more harm then."  
  
"You believe she's that strong?"  
  
"I believe she could be that strong. We really have no idea just how great her powers really are."  
  
"So then it is truly up to Miss Dinah."  
  
Barbara leaned back against the leather of her chair. Her eyes were fixed on the two unconscious bodies lying on metal beds in front of her. Both of them were deep in sleep but one of them was slowly dying. And the other was a fairly new telepath.  
  
"What have I done?" Barbara asked, fighting back her emotions. She had been strong for so long but even she wondered when the dam would finally break.  
  
He placed a hand on her shoulder. "You guided them. You gave them purpose. I believe Miss Helena would be the first one to be quite angry with you over your second guessing."  
  
"You're probably right," Barbara said with a laugh. "But if they don't come out of this."  
  
"Then believe they will," Alfred replied. He took a deep breath. "Master Bruce wasn't terribly fond of false hopes and expectations." He smiled then. "He did however enjoying playing the odds and I have to imagine that if he were here now and he knew Miss Helena and Miss Dinah they way I have come to, he would be certain that they would come out of this."  
  
"You really do know how to always say just the right things don't you?"  
  
He offered her a sweet smile. "A lifetime of practice."  
  
*****  
  
The two guards pushed her hard towards the hallway. They were both dressed in the green prison uniforms. Both looked like they had walked the execution mile a time too many. Both looked utterly disinterested.  
  
Neither seemed the least bit sympathetic to a young girl who couldn't even recall why she was being put to death.  
  
Everything had become a vicious blur. One moment she had known exactly where she was and what was going on. The next she had been trying to figure out her own name and who was real and who was fiction.  
  
What of Reese? What of this delusion of this cop who had a strong hold on her heart? Had she just created a sympathetic character in the midst of all of the madness?  
  
What of the actual ideal of helping people with Barbara? Was that just one hell of a creative illusion? A coping mechanism? Had she ever helped anyone?  
  
Was there actually a Barbara? Had there even been a Batman? Was she actually the daughter of Bruce Wayne?  
  
"Come on," one of the guards said, sounding tired and harassed. He gave her a hard shove into a room that had previously been sealed by an oversized lock.  
  
"Is this how it's really done?" she muttered, still feeling like nothing was real. Even her emotions felt muted and uncertain. She knew enough to know that she should be scared and that something very bad was about to happen but outside of that, she was having a hell of a time assigning an emotional attachment to anything.  
  
She just felt dead.  
  
Which considering what was about to happen to her was probably about right. More or less anyways.  
  
The guard helped her into the room and then lifted her onto a stretcher. He pushed her onto her back and began to fasten restraints. She watched with a sort of awed amazement. She wondered idly why he was tying her down and then what she was doing in the horizontal position. She had a vague sense that she was supposed to be frightened but that was almost completely overwhelmed by her sense of wonder about her predicament.  
  
"Do you have any final words, kitty?" a man above her asked. She looked up and into his eyes. They seemed almost sinister.  
  
"Kitty? Is that my name? Why are you dressed like a clown?" she asked, her voice suddenly terribly young. "Where am I?"  
  
The Joker shook his head. "A disappointment to the end. Proceed."  
  
One of the guards moved over towards her. She saw him take a needle that was attached to an IV bag and press it into her arm. She felt a brief flash of pain but even that dissolved into nothing.  
  
"Mom?" she whispered, still blinking. She felt another prick in her other arm as a second IV was inserted.  
  
"Helena!"  
  
She turned her head a bit, curious who was yelling. She wondered who this Helena was.  
  
"Helena!"  
  
She finally managed to crane her neck enough to that she could peer out towards the window that was looking out on the viewing room. She realized then that she could actually see all of the angry faces looking in. It occurred to her that that wasn't how it was supposed to work.  
  
The moment of truth was fleeting however.  
  
"Helena, snap out of it!"  
  
She looked out into the crown and saw a small blonde girl bouncing up and down. Guards kept trying to approach her but every single time they got within a few feet, they went flying backwards.  
  
"Dinah?" she murmured, the name sounding strange on her tongue. She decided to try it again but was stopped by a piece of tape being strapped to her head. So as to keep her in place in case of any sudden seizures. After all, execution wasn't supposed to be cruel and unusual.  
  
"By order of the Governor of Gotham, you have been sentenced to die by lethal injection on this fifth day of January of the year two thousand and three," the guard announced. He glanced over at another who was standing by a black phone. "Shall we commence?"  
  
"No!" Dinah screamed. She balled her fists and it looked like she started to shake. Moments later the tempered glass of the viewing window cracked and then shattered. The seriously pissed off blonde glared into the chamber.  
  
"Begin," the Joker hissed.  
  
The guard immediately complied, reaching over to start the first of the injections.  
  
*****  
  
"Oh God," Barbara said suddenly. She spun in her chair and wheeled quickly over towards where Helena was lying. "Her heart rate is dropping like a rock."  
  
"And Miss Dinah?"  
  
"She's holding steady," Barbara muttered. She balled her fist and slammed it against the table. "I don't know what's going on."  
  
Alfred opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Rather than continue to stand there looking like an idiot, he closed it again. Master Bruce had liked to play the odds but he had also hated false hopes.  
  
Now these two concepts were at war and only God himself knew which would come out the victor.  
  
*****  
  
Dinah had known fear all of her life. She had spent evenings curled into the back of her closet, whimpering desperately into her own clothes just so that her adopted parents wouldn't hear her tears. She had spent nights in a ball, begging for the pain of a recent beating to fade into background noise. And there had been times where she had hated herself for everything that she was. A monster. A deviant. A sinner by nature.  
  
But through it all, there had been a resolve. A need to find the outer wall that was her truth. Her purpose.  
  
She had found that with Helena and Barbara and she had no intention of letting it slip away.  
  
Hands still clenched and knuckles white, she sent shards of glass flying everywhere. She had no clue how real this dream world was but if it wanted to play for keeps, well then she was more than willing.  
  
"Time to wake up," she called out to Helena.  
  
The older girl didn't move.  
  
One of the guards was still bent over her and a few feet from him stood the white-faced maniac known as the Joker. Dinah had seen him only once before and then for only seconds before he had smashed a pistol into her face.  
  
"You're not real," Dinah announced, stepping into the chamber.  
  
"I'm as real as her mind," the Joker replied, not looking up. "All of this she created. All of this she will destroy."  
  
Dinah shook her head. "It's my playground now."  
  
She focused on the wall and was rewarded when it began to crumble forward. The guard who had been injecting the drugs backed away desperately. The moment he did, Dinah toppled the stretcher and ripped the IV's from Helena's arms. Each tear created a river of crimson blood down her forearms.  
  
"You're wasting your time," the Joker snapped at her. "She wishes she were dead."  
  
"You don't know Helena," Dinah said with a bit of a smile. "She's a bit more stubborn than that." She lifted her arms up and sent the Clown Prince of Crime stumbling backwards. "She just sometimes needs a good kick in the ass to get her pointed in the right direction."  
  
"Di.Dinah?" Helena gasped out, still lying on the ground. The IVs were gone but the restraints were still binding her to the stretcher. Dinah bent down and quickly tore them away.  
  
"It's me and it's time to wake up and come back to reality," Dinah insisted as she pushed an arm under her friend. "You've got to fight."  
  
"I can't."  
  
Dinah reached out and grabbed her face. "You can. You're the strongest person I've ever known. You survived what he did to you in that warehouse. Don't let him get you now."  
  
"Mom."  
  
Dinah grabbed Helena's hands and held them between hers. "Mine too. I lost mine too and when I did, you helped me through it. You'll be okay. Don't let him take you too."  
  
"Back." Helena muttered, eyes looking wildly past Dinah.  
  
"What?" Dinah asked, shaking her head in confusion. This was like talking someone down from a ledge and it was no easy task. Just the same, she could see that Helena was trying to draw her attention to something.  
  
The Joker lunged for Dinah and slammed her to the ground, pushing her away from Helena. Dinah let out a shocked squeal and fell away, clutching at her side. She couldn't quite understand how an injury sustained in a fake world could actually physically hurt.  
  
He straddled her body and snarled down at her, rage in his eyes. "I don't like when my plans are interrupted. It's not funny." He reached into his coat and produced an ugly looking knife with a long sloping blade. He brandished it over her with a kind of sadistic glee. She felt her insides turn to ice as he began to bring the knife down towards her gut.  
  
She wondered idly where her telekinetics were when she really needed them. Like now.  
  
The knife was half an inch from her belly when she saw a foot come out and knock it away. The blade went flying and imbedded itself in the wall. The Joker looked around in surprise and was shocked to be looking into the fiery blue eyes of the young woman who called herself Huntress.  
  
"You're dying," he reminded her.  
  
"I know," she admitted. "But not before I kick your ass all the way back to hell."  
  
She jumped to her feet and lashed out with a hard kick to his jaw. He tumbled backwards and dropped to his knees. He thrust a hand into his jacket and pulled out a pistol.  
  
"All spoiled milk," she informed him as she approached him.  
  
He fired the gun and out from the nozzle dribbled a thin off-white colored liquid. He gave her a sad dismayed smile. "You're screwing up my world."  
  
She shrugged. "I've already done that to my own, why should yours be any different."  
  
"Helena!" Dinah called out to her. "Give me your hand."  
  
"Why?" Helena asked, looking over at the girl with confusion. Dinah blinked, realizing that Huntress was still apparently suffering from memory loss.  
  
Which meant that she was fighting back because she damn well wanted to. Well then, good enough.  
  
Dinah smiled. She reached across and grabbed Helena's hand in her own and pulled the brunette to her.  
  
Then she tapped her heels together.  
  
"There's no place like home."  
  
"What the fuck?" Helena demanded, struggling a bit.  
  
Dinah offered her a wary smile and then knocked her heels together again.  
  
"There's no place like home."  
  
The lights in the chamber began to dim until they finally faded to black. Helena felt her stomach lurch and her head began to swim. She thrust out her other hand and felt it get taken. Dinah was holding that one was well.  
  
"There's no place like home," Dinah said for the third time.  
  
"Home," Helena murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.  
  
Then the lights went out.  
  
But at least her stomach stopped lurching first.  
  
*****  
  
"Is she okay?" Dinah demanded, jumping up from her bed. She crossed the room quickly and looked over Barbara's shoulder. "Tell me all of that wasn't for nothing."  
  
"She's coming out of it," Barbara reassured her. "Slowly." She turned towards Dinah. "What did you see?"  
  
"He was there. The Joker. He was in there with her. She was being executed."  
  
"For what?" Barbara exclaimed.  
  
"I don't know but it looked like she was accepting it until I got there. She didn't look like she even knew who I was."  
  
Barbara frowned. She bent over Helena and began to shine a flashlight into the girls' blue eyes.  
  
Helena came awake with a start. Her hand snapped out and she shoved the flashlight pen away. She groaned loudly and hid her face from the overhead lights.  
  
"Helena?" Barbara asked. "Are you okay?"  
  
She blinked. "How did I get here?" She shook her head. "Shit, turn those lights off or I will kill someone."  
  
"Sounds like our girl," Barbara said, snapping off the light. "Do you remember anything?"  
  
"No. I think.oh God, my head."  
  
"You've been through something of an experience. He got in your head."  
  
"No place like home?" Helena asked, looking right at Dinah.  
  
The blonde shrugged. "It was kind of like a safety word, you know what I mean?"  
  
"I know safety words," Helena said quickly. "So you chose that?"  
  
"Yep. It would pull me out of the dream no matter what. I just needed to be connected with you first in order to get both of us out."  
  
"So I was trapped? It's all so foggy."  
  
"You think you might finally be willing to talk? And tell us what the hell has been going on so we can start getting some answers?"  
  
Helena sighed. "Do I have a choice?"  
  
"No," Barbara replied. "Not really."  
  
"Where's Reese?" Helena asked, her voice filled with a strange sense of need. She wanted to see him, to make sure that he was the man she remembered him to be. Straight-laced and bold. Honest and compassionate. And full of heat.  
  
"There was another murder. He went to check it out. He brought you back from the prison. You scared the hell out of him," Barbara told him.  
  
Helena allowed herself a small smile. "Good." Then she caught herself. "I mean.you know."  
  
Dinah grinned. "Uh huh. You two are so terrible about hiding this. You might as well just jump each other and get it over with."  
  
"Dinah," Helena hissed.  
  
Barbara just chuckled. She placed a soft hand on Helena's temple and then moved it to her neck so that she could check her pulse. "Okay, you seem to be regulating."  
  
"That sounds disgusting," Helena commented, wrinkling her nose for effect. "Metamucil like even."  
  
Barbara snorted and shook her head. She was only in her mid thirties but sometimes Helena could make her feel like a very old woman. "I'm going to have Alfred bring you some tea and then I want you to tell us everything you can remember about your dreams."  
  
"I'm not going to be able to get out of this, am I?"  
  
"No. It's make or break time," Barbara told her. "We're running up against a clock. Whatever he's been doing to you, we shouldn't assume that just because you defeated him he's done. He'll have another plan and we need to know how he's working."  
  
"Fine," Helena sighed. "Then I'm gonna need something a lot harder than tea."  
  
Barbara smirked. "Welcome home."  
  
*****  
  
The guard circled around and looked into the glass room. The notorious maniac known as the Joker was sitting in his chair, just staring ahead at the wall. He had been oddly silent since he had had his visit with the brunette girl. The one who had tried to rip his throat out while being surrounded by nearly half a dozen armed cops.  
  
Just the same, the killer was acting almost like he was somewhere else entirely. Lost in own cracked world.  
  
"Weird day," Harris grunted as he looked at his partner who was sipping his coffee. "I actually thought that chick was gonna kill him."  
  
"Like that would have been so bad," his partner replied with a chuckle. "Anything to get us off of having to watch this guy. All he does is cackle all day."  
  
"Well except when the psyche and the priest come in."  
  
"Like that doesn't sound like a bad knock-knock joke."  
  
Harris laughed. "Indeed. Imagine that, huh? The Joker finding religion. I bet we could bank off of selling that to one of the tabloids."  
  
"Not to mention lose our job."  
  
Harris scowled. "Always the downer, bro."  
  
"I try. Hey, you think he looks sad?"  
  
"You think I care?"  
  
"No, I'm serious. He almost looks like he's about to cry."  
  
Harris stood and walked to the window. The Joker was blinking now and indeed, he did look rather dismayed. He was wiping his eyes in an exaggerated motion.  
  
And then suddenly he broke out into a wide grin. Which quickly faltered and drained away.  
  
Harris turned away and shook his head. "Freaky fuck is all I'm saying."  
  
"Is that your clinical term?" a voice said from above him. Harris looked up and then jumped to his feet. The woman continued, "Or are you actually as imbecilic as you sound?"  
  
"Dr. Quinzell, I'm sorry."  
  
She waved him off. "Don't worry. I don't expect anything different. Will you boys please step out?"  
  
"Of course, Doctor," Harris said. The two guards stepped outside of the main watching room and moved to another one that had video cameras. They could only see what was going on but even that was blurry. Dr. Quinzell insisted that maniac or otherwise, the Joker had a right to confidential psychiatric help. And the courts had agreed.  
  
So all they could do was hope that she wasn't in any danger from the Crown Prince of Crime. Luckily, the Joker wasn't exactly known for being much in the way of hand to hand combat and he certainly didn't have any weapons inside the cell. Which meant that the good doctor was probably safe.  
  
Inside the glass room, she moved to his side quickly. She placed her back to the camera so that they couldn't see her face. She smiled at him. "My sweet Mr. J," she said. "When one plan goes down, another starts. Don't worry; we're far from done."  
  
He looked up at her and grinned. "I'm so glad you're here," he said. "Where do we go now?"  
  
She laughed and kissed his cheek. "Oh don't worry. It's all under control."  
  
-FIN 


End file.
